Rise of the Blood Weaver - Chapter 75 (Patreon)

Arlo saw the fist hurtling toward his face. He stepped back, and swatted her wrist with as much strength as he could muster. He wasn’t afraid of hurting her. She was a warrior. And Arlo had to act appropriately.

Before his appendage could strike Merc, she had opened her palm, and caught his tendril. Smack. His hardened blood struck her flesh. She grabbed hold of his tendril, then threw him to the floor.

Arlo rolled, then quickly stabilised himself, but the moment he looked up, Merc was already in front of him. Scrambling to his feet, he took another strengthened step back, and swatted her opened side. She was about to block it, but Arlo swung his other appendage the next second.

She had the thought of dodging, but Arlo didn’t let her. Like a whip, the tip of the appendage snapped against her forearm. Her arm recoiled back. She stepped back. Her lips curled.

“Not bad,” She said. But her encouraging words had the opposite effect. All he felt was dread. However, he smiled.

“Bring it on,” He said, readying himself.

The fight continued, and much to Arlo’s dismay, Merc was going all out. She released a flurry of punches as they reflected the wild within her eyes. Arlo blocked as many as he could while trying to keep her further than an arm's reach away.

Alro wasn’t able to keep up with the pace of her onslaught. The moment Arlo slowed, Merc was already in a position to break apart his chest. Thankfully, she held back.

Aware of the position he was in, Arlo focused on keeping his distance. With his strengthened legs, it made it a lot easier. Like a boxer that used his effective range, Arlo kept Merc on the outside with wild, repeated strikes of his appendage. He used them like whips. If he utilised them as basic blunt instruments, Merc would simply catch them.

But he had a plan.

Arlo smashed her ribs with a well timed strike. But Merc had caught it. With a smile, Arlo summoned [Void Sanctum]. The extra strength surged through Arlo’s appendages, and legs. He coiled the tendril around Merc and followed it up with the other.

Summoning [Dreadbane] he pulled Merc, and at the same time blasted forward with his feet. He aimed his blade for Merc's throat.

Arlo thought he had done it. He thought he had beaten the top lineage. But he realised in the next second she was merely toying with him. Or maybe she was just trying to let Arlo gain experience. Whatever her reason was, pain blossomed from Arlo’s chest.

Disregarding the pull, Merc’s leg snapped to Arlo’s stomach. Sucking in a harsh, strained breath, he tried to raise his own leg in defence. It was a mistake. Merc replied by sweeping his other leg from under him.

It all happened so fast. Faster than Arlo could think. Arlo lost control of his appendages and then Merc was standing over him with her foot raised above his head. One move and his brain would be splattered across the floor.

“The Remembrance you’ve gained to speed up your legs has made a massive difference,” She said, offering her hand to Arlo. “You just need to learn better technique. When to attack. And when to defend.”

Arlo accepted the hand as she pulled him up. He chuckled, and said, “so basically I just need to improve everything? Got it. But yeah, I kinda forgot you could use your legs. I was too caught up in restricting your arms.”

Merc nodded. She was about to turn around. Arlo interrupted her.

“Done already?” Arlo asked, massaging his stomach. “I was just getting started.”

“I like your attitude,” Merc said, giving a rare smile.

And so they started fighting once more.

***

Arlo sat against the cool wall drenched in sweat. He was desperately clawing for a breath. Merc sat by his side. Her chest was as calm as it was before the two hour long sparring session.

Justin was right. She’s a freak, Arlo thought. He had the idea that even if he had the same amount of Core Fragments than she did, she’d still be stronger. It was a sour thought. Was it because of their bloodline that they simply had more potential than others? Would she always be better than him just because of who her parents were?

“Hey Merc,” Arlo said, looking at Merc. “What was your childhood like?”

Merc tilted her head.

Arlo waved his hands. “No, I mean, Justin had a rough upbringing, I think that’s fair to say from what I’ve heard. Then there was his brother. I still don’t know Justin very well, but his family seems… Cold? I was just curious if that was the norm with Lineages.”

Merc looked off into the sky. It was darkening. An orange haze swept through the horizon. From what they could see above the walls, anyway. “Most top Lineage families don’t have much of a childhood. We are trained from birth to shoulder the responsibilities our family expects from us.”

She raised her hand. A shadow cast over her face. Her hand was covered in scars and thick calluses. A few of her fingernails were permanently damaged. They told a story of never ending hard work.

Arlo turned silent for a moment. Before he awakened, he just thought lineages were young masters born with a golden spoon in their mouth. But as he stared at that pale, worn hand, he was made aware of something. None of them had it easy. They were doing everything they could out of what, honour?

“What about friends?” Arlo asked, turning his vision back to Merc.

Maybe it was his own insecurity asking the question. His childhood had been horrible. All throughout primary school he had to deal with bullying, name calling, you name it. He had to practically move schools for his senior years, and act like a completely different person; making all the excuses under the sun when he had numerous doctors appointments to appear ‘normal’.

“Friends?” Merc said, then shook her head. “I’ve never had any.”

“You’re a liar,” Arlo said, smiling. “You have me, don’t you?”

“No,” she replied simply, “we can’t be friends.”

“What do you mean by that?” Arlo asked, trying not to get angry.

“What do you see when you look at these walls? Inspect them closely.”

Arlo wondered what she meant by that, but he played along. Despite this area being a safezone, maybe it wasn’t always so. Scars had been gouged into the wall. Either from weapon strikes, or claws from a monstrous creature. Despite the crimson vines, Arlo spotted old, dried blood marks splashed onto the surface. It told a story of battle and war and death.

Merc continued, her voice was almost–lonely, “The Windsor family is one of leadership, battle, and sacrifice. My future–” She paused, then said, “People die. That’s the truth. You may die because of my commands if the need arises. That’s just how it is. It’s easier this way.”

Arlo looked at her, and said, “Being a lineage sucks, huh?”

She nodded.

Arlo continued, “But your words are full of shit. Command me?” He chuckled, and said, “If I follow you, It’s of my own choice. Whether I die because of that, is on me, not you. You are not in this alone. We all have each-other. That’s how we survive.”

Merc just shook her head. “You don’t understand.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But life without friends is lonely. I know it all too well, Merc. And I know you feel the same way.”

The orange in the sky was growing ever darker. Soon they would be plunged into a world of the devouring night. Arlo sighed, stood up, then walked over to Justin. He placed [Void Sanctum] on the floor ready for his night of sleep.

“Enjoy your little talk?” Justin asked while fishing something out from between his teeth.

“All you Lineages are so complicated.”

“Complicated? I eat, fight, kill, absorb cores, and sleep. Doesn’t seem too complicated to me.”

“Whatever. I’m going to sleep. Knock on the lid if you need me for lookout duty.”

“Sure thing.”

And so Arlo climbed back into the strangely comfortable coffin. With a thought, the lid closed on its own. He fell asleep to the sound of whispers of an ancient god…